


Eternal Masturbation

by 13ineedpills13



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety Attacks, Attempted Murder, Blood and Injury, Crying, Depression, Dissociation, Fallen Angels, Family Angst, Family Loss, Guilt, Heavy Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Masturbation in Shower, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Overthinking, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relationship Problems, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Fantasy, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13ineedpills13/pseuds/13ineedpills13
Summary: "How long are you going to make me suffer!?" He screamed into the sky and continued to cry. His voice was cracked and hoarse, only adding to the pain in it. His head began feeling light headed from how much his lungs struggled to match up to the blood that rushed around his body. "Just what do you want!? Kill me, for fuck's sake! I don't want to live like this anymore!!"--Literally the title but things get a little fucked at the end. There will be a second chapter, since this is kinda open-ended.Listen to takayan's song with the same title.
Relationships: Diavolo/Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes, breathing hurts.

Even opening your eyes hurts.

And sometimes, you feel disgusted at yourself for being able to feel your heart beat inside your ribcage.

You do not want to get up. You don't want to be seen by anyone, talk go anyone, and just melt off go the matress.

You feel tired. Feel like all of th3 effort you put on whatever you did today, was in vain. It was useless. 

So the empty feeling comes back again. It catches you all of a sudden, and your eyes start to water from it. 

Recently, these thoughts began circulating inside his head even more. His head pounded in ache, he had trouble falling asleep. He was more angry than usual. And the worst part was; He had to endure everything. Be the person everyone takes as an example. Excel at everything in order to not ruin that person'z reputation or whoever the fuck he was worrying about that day. The voices around him began to bother him one day. Simple words began picking at him. Her voice was too squeaky. Hus voice was too loud. He spoke in murmurs. And she talked too much.

The presence of others next to him made him uneasy. Even seeing someone's face was enough to make him get up and leave. "If they won't leaving, I will." He would say, just to get some alone time to calm his nerves down. But the god damn brain just wasn't shutting up. It was always busy, yet so useless at the same time. The stupid thoughts, voices, seemingly harmless gestures that effected him a bit too deeply, and even faces made him cradle his head in his hands and squeeze it to make everything quiet down. His head was buzzing all the time.

What would a person turn to amidst everything?  
Anything that eased their stress, calmed their nerves, made them feel happy for a while. Smoking, drugs, alcohol, or harmless things like drawing or music. Or masturbation, in his case. Whenever he was alone, stressed, he locked himself in his stall and did his business there. Whenever he took a shower, his thoughts would drift off in spirals, and finally they would explode. He would relax, drown in euphoria for a while, and he would began shedding tears. He was pathetic, and that made him even angrier at himself. Sometimes it was wine. He would gulp down bottles after bottles, human wine didn't effect him at all. Sometimes he would mix up the bottle with Demonus in a moment of clumsiness, and become dead drunk inside his locked study. Pass out there, and then carry himself back to his room with a pounding headache and a heavy heart.

Soon, the mindless sexual pleasure he would feel got less effective then before. It felt the same. His mind would jump off inside a pit, explode, and then slowly climb it's way back with the remaining parts. It frustrated him. He felt like shit, as he leaned back on the cold tiles of his shower, his legs spread and a shot of white liquid on the door of the shower he was in. He felt disgusting, even dirtier than before. It wasn't working anymore. His mind was ruining itself everyday. As he slowly closed his legs and pulled them on his stomach, and the hot, steaming water sprinkled out from the shower head, he ran his hands through his wet hair, he sighed.

"This isn't good. This isn't me at all. I'm not this pathetic..." He mumbled, hiding his face in his palms. The not water felt even hotter than before, burning his skin and making him shudder underneath. But he didn't protest. He didn't get up. He shook, cried underneath the shower head, feeling cold underneath that not water. Feeling cold because no one is there to ease him, hug him, and tell him that everything is going to be okay. Help him. Reopen and properly clean the wounds he stupidly and messily patched up.

His heart hurt at the thought of his brothers, back in the Celestial Realm. Days passed quickly, and they all grew up. They all lived together in peace. Every Christmas, every easter, every festivity was so colourful, so bright. They all sparked in their own colours. They all laughed. But because Lucifer risen up agganist his father to protect his sister, a part of the family... instead of just sitting down, and bowing his head in obedience, like he did with other executions. But when it happened to them, he understood how great the pain was for the families of those angels. 

Everything was his fault.  
He was the reason why Mammon was crying in panic whenever he run out of money for a long period of time, the reason why he thought his world was going to fall apart and he was going to die. The reason why he was targeted and bullied by witches.  
The reason why Leviathan became a huge shut in and distanced himself from everyone, because he was ashamed to have a both of his soft wings gone. Why he was so afraid of huge crowds, because he fell and got humiliated in front of a huge amount of people during his fall.  
Why Satan was born to a horrible world like this, destined to be a shadow of Lucifer. Why be spent he first centuries of his coincidental existence with nothing but undying wrath, rage.   
Why Asmodeus turned to sex to comfort himself. Why he put on so much make up and got cosmetic procedures to make himself look as desirable as possible, and to feel the love father has refused to give to him especially. The reason why be was so traumatized and freaked out whenever someone made him feel special, in a different, deeper meaning.  
Why Beelzebub was cursed with his never ending, intensifying hunger. Why he felt like a burden, and extra expense to everyone due to his excessive eating, and most importantly, why he held himself responsible for his only sister's death. Lucifer could hear soft cries throughout the time Belphegor was up in the attic. He heard whimpers, quiet, scared and lonely.  
Why Belphegor grown a hatred, bias towards humans. Why he cried so hard that he puked everywhere the day they fell, how he felt guilty for having their sister interested in human culture. How he had started to hate Lucifer, and grew distant from everyone besides Beelzebub. Whenever Lucifer went upstairs to give him food, he could see how tired he is. How sick of everything he is.  
Lilith's dead... is his fault.

Everything is his doing.  
If he wasn't this much of a failure as the eldest brother and the most powerful being in the realms. As the father-like figure he was to his brothers, as the result of being left a alone after getting created by a neglectful God. He sobbed and sobbed. He cursed at the tragic, infuriating, suffocating, embarassing visions he saw in his life up until now. His scarlet red eyes were closed shut as he continued to shed his tears in the bathroom, with no one to hear him. 

In the end, he too, snapped like a thin tree branch. His mind all of a sudden had an empty road in front of it, not barricaded by the thick walls he set up throughout the years. They came flooding out from his mouth, his eyes, his hands, everywhere they could run away from. It was Diavolo this time. In front of literally everyone. The stupid man had praised him over and over again, the imperfect, stupid, unnecessarily strict, arrogant, selfish, murderer him. The disgusting him. One more compliment. An extra one was just enough to make him lose control in front of the entire student council, and caused his wings and horns to flare out. 

He started smiling first, but it quickly turned to an abnormally wide, scary one. His eyes widened, and his hands shook. He tried to get a hold of the power he had, his breathing became erratic as the prince continued to talk about him in that way. He knew he was doing it out of his foolish intimate love towards him. How could he love him? He, the one who trapped the former pride of heavens in his palm, was now in love with him. He, who was the reason why they were stuck in this shit hole called Devildom, was in love with him. He, the one who the former Morningstar was in hopelessly love with, was also in love with him. 

"Diavolo. Stop." His voice was small at first, but it didn't catch the attention of the prince. This finally broke the straw that was holding the camel's back, as the next thing he knew was that he was holding the stunned prince by his collar, and they were punching each other on the floor. He felt a heavy one coming underneath his chin, and he felt a small crack there. He spat blood, and wrapped his hands around the younger's throat tightly when he climbed on top of him to calm him down.

Muffled voices were heard from all around the room. He had no idea what they were saying. He couldn't even hear how the prince struggled to breathe. With a swift motion, Lucifer took him underneath and gave one last squeeze to him, cracking his neck with a big snap. 

...  
This didn't make any sense.  
This didn't make any sense.  
This.  
Didn't.  
Make.  
Any.  
Sense.

Where is... everyone?  
Why did no one stop him?   
Where is Barbatos?  
How did the prince of Devildom died in his hands this easily?   
With a single snap.  
The son of the demon king was gone.  
What happened?

His head spinned as the body in his arms stayed limp, a line of blood coming out of his mouth. Purple bruises formed around his neck, and his body slowly grew cold. His heart pounded. He began sweating cold bullets. He had killed his captor. He was finally free. His family could do whatever they want now. He killed the man that gave him and his family a warm bed. The man that reincarnated his sister as a human. The man that wanted him to be happy, to be loved. To shine in his realm with all his glory once again. His best friend. His right hand man. His love. 

_No- no, no, no, no!_

_This wasn't it!_   
_It just didn't made any sense!_

Panicked tears rose inside him as he struggled to believe what he had done. Blood, blood. His blood, was in his hands. The man the prince trusted the most. All of a sudden, for no reason other than a day dream. His heart rate increased, so did his breathing. He threw himself off of the body, crying and wheezing. Everything was suffocating. Everything was filling him to the brim. Everything- it was like falling again. The insides of his head buzzed and buzzed. It didn't stop, only intensified the longer he stared at the body. The longer he stared at his hands. Tears sprung out his cheeks, dripping down his neck, and his hands.

"How long are you going to make me suffer!?" He screamed into the sky and continued to cry. His voice was cracked and hoarse, only adding to the pain in it. His head began feeling light headed from how much his lungs struggled to match up to the blood that rushed around his body. "Just what do you want!? Kill me, for fuck's sake! I don't want to live like this anymore!!" 

His last scream echoed in the halls greatly, as his chest heaved and he closed his eyes.

And then, his eyes opened.  
The noise stopped.  
The scenery changed.  
The brightness changed.   
Everything came to a halt inside his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything felt awfully quiet as he stared around. The only sound was the crackling that came from tbe nearby fire place, as he laid down on the floor with a wine bottle in his hand. His face was stained with tears, most of them were dried and made him feel uncomfortable. He started at the bottle, and wondered why it didn't shatter when he fell on the floor. 

He sighed after that. And slowly got up. The clock tower in the city center rang loudly exactly 3 times, signalling that it was already 1w PM. He was late to work. Great. He struggled to get up since he just stumbled backwards when he attempted to, but he held onto the desk next to him. He pushed himself up after much struggle, and looked around. Yes, it was still his office. Some of the documents there had wine spilled on them, they weren't that important but that is still a big problem.

He took some water from the jug nearby, and poured it on the fire. That too, instantly died down. It was on the verge of death anyway. He wondered if he was going to be like that as well one day. On the verge of death; pathetically holding onto the branch called life. But then, wasn't he already like that? He exhaled slowly and opened the window to his office to let some cold air in. His eyes burned and he had a headache. There was a puddle of vomit nearby as well, only filled with wine and nothing else. No dinner. No lunch. No breakfast. No wonder his body is so weak nowadays. 

He went to cleaning after picking up his composure a bit. He cleaned the vomit in disgust with a mop and a bucket he found on the closet near his room. Leviathan's voice was coming from his room. From the sounds of it, they were having an online math lesson on geometry, and he was actively attending. Leviathan liked mathematics, so it was expected. Other than that, Belphegor's sleepy voice came from his slightly parted door. He was on the phone with Beelzebub. Turns out Belphegor and him were going to a restaurant today. Dragging his disgustingly weak body around, he walked back with the mop and the bucket, all the way back to his office. He was too bothered to use a teleportation spell.

He cleaned the place, which started to smell both like alcohol and stomach acid. The smell in itself was enough to make one puke. Despite his empty stomach's protests, he continues to wipe the floor. It was entirely liquid, so it eas easy to get rid of. He sprayed some perfume on the place where the vomit once was. Even though the smell was gone thanks to the detergent he used, he still wanted to make sure. He took the bucket, and put it back in the closet after washing the bucket and the mop.

He was already tired.

He looked at his hands. It was just a simple dream. Or a nightmare. Diavolo wasn't dead, he wasn't murderer, and everyone else was fine. His hands weren't stained with the blood of his love. But why did he felt so uneasy? Why did his heart rate increase when he thought back at the dream? He felt scared, but of what? While the low humming of the air conditioners and other machines all around the city continued, he went back to his room and prepared himself for the remaining of the day. Just 3 more hours, and he would go back to his safe, quiet room again. He was beyond tired and didn't want to take another step, he doubted he can stand the chatter of his brothers or literally anyone in general. But he had to. If he skipped an entire day of work without an excuse, Barbatos would boil him alive and serve him as soup.

As he slipped on his uniform, he noticed that his eyes looked worse than usual. Not only they were red and puffy, his left eye also looked like there was something wrong with it. It looked in a deeper shade of red, almost half of the white of his eye was completely red. It looked frightening, but it didn't hurt. So he shrugged it off as a stupid spell one of his brothers made, and went to wash his face and style his hair. He hid the dark circles with concealer, brushed his teeth and chewed on them mint gum as he walked with his bag. His gloves felt restricting for the first time. He wanted to get rid of them, but he didn't.

His mind was anywhere else except work. RAD. He walked in the empty school road and made his way to the student council room. Surely, if he made up an excuse and said that he had important stuff to deal with downtown, Diavolo would believe him. But he also had the power to spot lies, so it was going to be hard. He felt anxious before he stepped in, after knocking an few times. His mind wondered around in a circle, like a stupidly tangled cotton yarn. He opened the door after a while, hearing the bells that signalled the end of the 5th period that day. 2 more, and he was free.

He stepped inside after hearing Diavolo's voice. There he was. Perfectly healthy, without any finger marks on his throat. Without any bruising on his face, or any blood. He sat at his desk with a couple files on his hands, and looked up lazily. He was in a bad mood, that was for sure. So Lucifer had to pick his words carefully to not piss him off further. The prince froze for a moment when he looked up at his face, and quickly rushed to his side, cupping his cheeks in his hands. He turned his head around, pinched his cheeks, and patted down his shoulders and chest for some reason. 

"Lucifer! Why are you so late- Nevermind that, what happened to your eye? Did someone punch you? Did you take something? It's all red!"

"...Lord Diavolo, you are hurting my face."

"Well that is not important now, is it? Come on, sit down." The prince dragged him along and made him sit on top of a desk, to which the Avatar of Pride kind of grumbled at. Why was Diavolo even this concerned, when he should be mad that Lucifer gor being so late? Was he really that fond of him? He smiled bitterly at the thought, but his heart couldn't forget how warm his hands were agganist his skin. His gloved fingers. He made eye contact with Diavolo once he called out to him.

"...Lucifer. I heard that some human world drugs effect eyes the most. Did you take something last night?"

"I just drank wine."

"Are you sure that wine was safe?"

"It was in my closet, so I'm sure."

"Where did you drink it?"

"My own study. No one else was in."

Diavolo stared at his face longer, it was starting to get uncomfortable. Lucifer swore his face felt hot, but he didn't know if it was from blushing for some reason, or something else. The longer Diavolo stared, the more Lucifer wanted to avoid his gaze, so he turned his head away. He looked away from him, on the ground. 

"...Did you had an arguement with someone?"

"Just my brothers, but no physical violence was included."

"...What could've caused your eye to get this bad? Is it just an infection, or something more serious? Was it like this when you fell asleep?"

"No. It was normal."

"Do you feel any pain? Itchiness?"

"I feel nothing."

He was slowly getting annoyed with this line of questioning. He just wanted to be alone and do his job. Diavolo was probably going to force him into going to a doctor to get his eyes checked out, but he didn't want to deal with any of that shit. Diavolo forced his head to look up at him, and he swore he could see a small, glowing circle around his pupils. Waa he using his ability? He didn't want to know. Their faces were dangerously close to each other, an Lucifer put his hand on top of Diavolo's to signal that his neck started to hurt. His chest was like a drum. Beating, beating, and beating. Echoing all around. He didn't like it. He felt like he was stuck in a fever dream. He wanted it to stop.

The sound of a door opening stopped everything, and the two stared at the door. The shine in Diavolo's eyes were gone as he stared at the intruder, it was Barbatos. He was quietly staring at them from the foor, with a mountain of paperwork in his hands. His lips formed into a small smile, barely noticable, and he closed the door as fast as he came in. "I am sorry for interrupting. Please don't mind me." He said as he left. Diavolo's face was red from the comment, and Lucifer was unfazed. Typical Barbatos. He liked seeing chaos, but he did it in a more... normal level. Not extreme, like Solomon.

Diavolo slowly turned back at him, and he next thing he knew, he was being embraced in a big hug. "When everyone said that you weren't at the house, and you weren't here, I got worried. You never skipped class, or avoided your duties. But I thought that you had some urgent matters to attend to. I called and texted you, but you didn't respond. I assumed that you turned off your phone, or simply couldn't respond. Then I had a few servants look around for you in the city. You were nowhere to be found. We thought you got captured or somehing..." He laughed as he said that. A dry, humorless, even worried laugh.

"I was only gone for 5 hours." He answered, not finding the strength in himself to hug back. His hands were clasped together between his thighs while the prince continued to hug him. Lucifer put his head on his shoulder after a moment of hesitation. He felt tired. His eyelids threatened to fall, his head was dangerously spiraling, and his body was getting numb. The only thing he felt was pure exhaustion. Diavolo continued to hug him as he spoke again, but Lucifer interrupted him.

"...I am no child. I can take care of myself. Since when have you started to worry about me like a father, all of a sudden? I am much older than you..."

Diavolo didn't respond to that. And continued to hug him. 

\---

"Lucifer!"

"Yes?"

"I need cash. The witches are botherin' me again..."

"Don't you have a part time job?"

"Eh... That didn't work out."

"Of course it didn't... Of course it didn't. Who would hire a useless demon like you?"

"Hey! At least I don't have an alcohol problem like ya! I bet you're drunk now too!"

"MAMMOOOOON!"

"What!? I'm tellin' the truth! **What kinda big brother are ya!?** "

\---

"Lucifer, why did you hide my Ruri-Chan figures?"

"You failed 4 classes this semester."

"And?"

"What do you mean "and"? It is unacceptable for you to bring in results like this."

"An otaku's reason to live is solely their figurines! An otaku without figurines is like a salad without lemon, or a ham sandwich without melted cheese!c You're killing me with a single punch when you do that!"

"...Are you done?"

"Do you even have anything that is similar to you? An item you hold dear to yourself, and then you **lose it because of a stupid couple mistakes- Oh wait. Your wings. Yeah.** Now give me my figurines back!""

"...What are you implying? Go back to your room."

\---

"Lucifer."

"Hm?"

"Why's your voice so depressive all of a sudden? **Well, whatever. It's none of my business.** I need the champagne opener."

"...I banned you all from consuming alcohol after your drunken fight in Diavolo's castle."

"And... And why am I not aware of that?"

"Satan, you don't check your messages. Now get out of my study."

"Lucifer, give me the opener. I need a drink, or I'm going to snap."

"Satan."

"What?"

"Get the fuck out of my room."

"Ha- Who told you can speak to me like that!? Whatever! **Die just like your sister for all I care!** "

\---

"Lucifer, I... uh, I need your car keys and some cash."

"Why?"

"Well, first of all I need to go to the healer, I think I got scabies from the dude I hung out with a week ago, and I might've spread it to 3 different people and now they are mad at me... So I need money for their treatments as well. Or they are threatening to sue me."

"...Asmodeus."

"Hm?"

"You are the biggest disappointment I've encountered during the last 40 years."

"..."

"I'm guessing we are done here?"

"...Well, **I think I can blame that on a certain someone that neglected us all ever since our fall for his own insecurities, and called it "protecting us". Thank you for nothing. I think I'm going to use Mammon's savings, rather than owing _you_ for your help.**"

\---

"Lucifer, I'm hungry..."

"There is still 3 hours before lunch. And you just ate. Control yourself a bit."

"But... Lucifer. My stomach hurts. I can't bear it." _Grumble_

"Beel, you should learn to restrain yourself."

"Lucifer, it hurts..."

"Try not to think about it."

" **Why does Asmo get to go out every night and bring someone home, when I can't eat? Or why does Mammon get to spend a lot of money? Or why does Leviathan get to be jealous over anything? Even Belphie, he used to sleep all day besides talking to me. And you, you are always act like you are better than us. Everyone gets to express their sins freely, why not me?** "

"Your sin is different compared to others, Beelzebub."

" **How? Is it because I become too expensive to have around?** "

"No, I never said tha-"

" **Or do you resent me for not saving Lilith when I had the chance?** "

"Beel, that has nothing to do with this!"

"I heard enough, Lucifer. **I'm sorry, but please don't talk to me.** "

\---

" **Oh, you decided to visit me?** "

"I don't want you to starve to death. I can't have you dying in here."

" **Because Beel would resent you? Because you would feel guilty, but stoll lie to their faces if I die? I know you are too much of a coward to take responsibility for your actions.** "

"Shut up and eat it. Or I'll show it down your throat." 

" **Lucifer. You didn't answer my question... You are just proving my point here. Our sister died because of you. You were the reason we are all Diavolo's puppets, lap dogs. The toys he brings out whenever he is bored... Are you proud of yourself no-** "

**CRASH**

" **...Hah, hahahaha! Ahaha! I didn't expect you to actually take me seriously and throw the tray at me! What is wrong with you!? Hahaha!** "

"You can lick the food off of the ground with roaches like the pig you are. Fine. Do whatever suits you."

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it just me or is this story getting far more angsty than i intended it to


	3. Chapter 3

Some people tell him that he is an asshole for being so harsh with his brothers. Some people call him responsible. Some people call him perfect, and some people hate him for it. When in reality, he is not any of those things. He was fine with taking as much as damage, if it meant that his brothers were safe. If his brothers still smiled and were away from harm's way. One day, as he was writing something on his notebook about work related meetings and some notes for Asmodeus' paper, since he was on the verge of failing, he realized something.

He hadn't gone outside in two from work. He hadn't got up or showered, or slept properly. He sat on his desk for two days. Didn't come to dinners or breakfasts, or contacted anyone. And no one called him or checked on him once to understand where he was. As if the outside world didn't exist at all. He checked his phone, no personal messages. And the group chat was mostly filled with indirect insults and stupid jokes between his brothers. None of them mentioned him. 

It was fine. His brothers were happy.

He wrote, and wrote, and wrote. Signing papers after papers, filling out forms, fixing the typos on Mammon's papers and editing Belphegor's poorly written assignment so he wouldn't fail Devildom history, out of all things. He came across a photograph inside a pile of papers a of a sudden, halfway through. How did that get there?

It wasn't a photograph, rather a perfect drawing of Lilith, from what was left in his mind. He drew it for an art project, the concept was a beautiful woman with a flower crown. He stared down at it for a few minutes, his eyelids slowly falling over. And his vision blurring. His horns slowly extended out from his head, so did his wings. He got up from his desk after putting the photograph down, and stared at himself on the mirror. With one hand, he touched his horn. Smooth, hard, and kind of shiny with a red hue at the base of it. His hand travelled down his horn, and then down to his wings. Ebony black feathers, which were once his pride due to their whiteness, pureness. 

He still remembered the pain he felt when his muscles and bones pulsed and pushed his top wings out from his back with force, it burned. It reeked of copper. It tasted bitter. The wounds got infliated, and he had to try almost every single wound cream in Devildom before finding one that actually worked. It hurt, it burned, and it made him want to puke. He touched his horns again, before closing his eyes and applying most of his strength into his hands. He held these unholy things tightly inside his palms. He squeezed them, and squeezed. He almost let out a blood curling scream when he finally shattered half of them under his strong hands.

Now, the last half.  
This was the hard part.

Holding the lower half, he pulled as if he was pulling down the hair of his most hated enemy. He pulled and grunted in pain, wobbled, and felt the disgusting pain inside his skull, the pain of being forced to move around by two extensions securely tied to it. He paused for a moment, he was drooling blood grom clenching his teeth too hard, and his face was covered in sweat. It hurt. It hurt so much, that all he wanted to do was to scream and cry.

With one last violent pull, the horns broke off from his head successfully, and his hands flew downwards. Blood gushed out from the wounds on his head, and his scream followed after. Luckily, his room was soundproof. As his chest heaved and the warm, burning pain of bleeding from your skull came in, he spat out the blood inside his mouth into the trash. He stared at the pieces of horns inside his hands, and threw them on the floor in fear. It was like holding your pan hand. Disgusting, disturbing. He cradled his head inside his palms, to stop the bleeding for a while. But all that happened was the blood got on his hands.

He wasn't done yet.  
He never regretted rising up agganist his father. To protect his sister. To satisfy his own pride.  
It was too late to ask for forgiveness, nor he had any intention to.  
He wanted to fix the core of the problem.  
Change what had happened.

As much it hurt his pride, made his head pound in pain got rejecting his sin, the pain his heart held for wishing to go back in time, and stop his sister from falling in love with that man. Slap his past, young self for being a prideful, filthy asshole. He wanted to prevent everything from ever happening. He never wanted these horns and wings, he never wanted to meet this god damn prince that made him jump in joy internally. He was so confused as to what was happening with his mind, as if it had a consciousness on it's own.

It was making him suffer.  
He felt like he deserved it.

While the wound on his head was still bleeding, and some of his blood trickled down from his one closed eye, he turned to his wings and started go grasp the feathers tightly, pulling them apart. Starting tom the shortest ones close to the base of his wings, he pulled everything haphazardly. Black feathers fell on the floor, like a ripped up feather pillow. Angry tears left his eyes and mixed with blood, he choked on them as he continued to cry and rip his feathers apart, revealing the thin layer of skin and meat underneath it. Sometimes, he ripped them so violently, blood came out of yhe feathers' meeting point with the skin. 

Once all of his feathers were on the floor in a big pile around him, the bleeding on his head had started to slow down. But he wasn't feeling any better. He just felt tired and woozy from all the blood he lost, and his eyes had trouble staying open from hos they burned from his tears. He felt messy. Disgusting. Neglected. But neglected from who? His brothers? Diavolo? Maybe his own father? He had stopped taking care of them properly after every brother and a sister was born, and Lucifer was left all alone with 7 children, his younger family. The first night Lilith and Beelzebub got sick, it was like hell. Lilith was still learning to speak, and Beelzebub had the mind if a 4 year old child. Feeling the suffering of both of his siblings, Belphegor too, wasn't very peaceful. Asmodeus was nagging to him about not wanting to sleep, Leviathan wasn't eating because other angel children made fun of him for being slightly chubby at the time, and Mammon was buried in work since he offered to help Lucifer with his tasks.

Yeah, it was hard.   
But Lucifer was still a child with the mind and body of a 13 year-old kid back then. It was very stressful, and sometimes the painful cries and screams of three small children came to his dreams. He never had a childhood from taking care of his brothers, he never lived his life freelu without worrying about them and acting both as a parental figure, and a brother. But he never regretted asking for a sibling he can guide, can take care of, from his father.

Feeling his knees buckle, he fell on the floor. His body was tired, and his knees were stinging from the pain of the impact on the floor. His cheeks, his forehead, his brow, and the corner of his mouth was covered in blood from the wounds on his head. But at keast his horns were completely gone from his head. It was going to take at least 2 years for them to fully grow back, just like how they grew for the first time. When he fell. His wings would repair the damage much faster; give it a couple months and they're better than new.

This was temporary damage. Just to feel something other than confused mess inside his head, or the daggers hitting his heart whenever he felt like he ruined his family. Broke it apart. It was selfish of him to say that no one would miss him if he perished, no. The real world didn't work like that. His mind didn't think like that. He wasn't supposed to think like that, it just made him feel like he was looking for excuses to be sad, to be angry. Getting angry over things that weren"t the reality, _of course his brothers would miss him if he perished. He was the eldest, the most disciplined one. Basically a single father to them. He took care of them in ways they weren't even aware of._

At least that's what his pride told him. And that put an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach. He laid down on the floor for the second time in his office, cold tears in his eyes slowly running down, and he closed his eyes. In an attempt to get some sleep. To rest. 

But soon, he sneezed, and that kind of woke bim up.

The feathers around him made him sneeze. They tickled his nose. Sighing, he got up from the floor, and went to a bath. It wasn't a hot one, it would just burn his wounds. He needed cold water to clean them a little, to prevent them from inflating.

\---

_A man with an unreadable, unrecognizable face laid down next to him. The man's one, avaragely built arms was wrapped around his waist while the other one slowly stroked his cock slowly. Lucifer's cock helplessly twitched at how warm his hand was. He shuddered at the teasing smile on the man's face. It was quite pretty as well, kind of pleasant._

_A woman with no eyes climbed on the bed and softly spreaded his legs with her cold hands, stroking his thighs and smiling up at him. She put one hand on his hole, and roughly inserted two of her fingerd in. Her nails were sharp, and the intrusion hurt. He found himself gasping, lost between the pleasure on his cock and the pain, buried deep inside his ass. The two figures swirled together inside his mind and body, sending many types of different pleasures up his spine._

_They kissed him, stroked his abbs and hair, inserted a vibrating butt pluck and a cock ring on him and watched him squirming on the bed. Helpless, breathy moans and groans left him, as his thighs closed and opened in confusion. Whether to intensify the pleasure, or keep himself from getting embarrassed, he didn't know it._

_Pleasure only intensified when the butt pluck was replaced with an 8-inch toy, also with the vibrating function. He howled, and tugged at th restrains in his wrists that magically appeared on him all of a sudden. He whined, arched his back and kicked his legs around, as his whole body shuddered in an intense dry orgasm. His world switched all of a sudden, and now one of those figures were tied up with ropes, laying down in his bed._

_The person was blindfolded. Their genitals was impossible to identify in Lucifer's hazy mind. Whether they were male or female, it didn't matter. His cock twitched when he stared at their bruised ass and back, filled with either slap or whip marks. He had leather gloves on, and he held a whip in his left hand. He stared down at it for a minute, before raising the whip in his hand once again. Careful to not hit close to their kidneys or other organs, he aimed for their thighs, ass cheeks, and back. He was an expert with it._

_They cried out his name, and shuddered agganist the bed they were tied on. He slowly put the whip down and ran his fingers on the bloody wounds, almost lovingly. There were a lot of bruises there, they were going to need extensive care with it. Pulling their head with enough force to send a tingling pain, he lifted their head up and put his fingers on their lips. They opened their mouth and slowly began to lick his fingers, suckling on them without grazing their teeth on his fingers too much. They cleaned the leather gloves with care, and Lucifer gave their head a small pat as a reward. He then took his fingers out of their mouth and pushed them on their hole, stretching it in a little half-assed fashion. He knew they liked pain. Though he wasn't going to risk tearing them as well._

_He slowly inserted his own cock inside, using his own spit as lube, and sighed at the tightness around his cock. They embraced him very well. Small pleas and shaky breaths came out of their mouth as he thrusted in completely, and then slowly pulled out. Thrust in roughly, pull out slowly, agonizingly. Enough to make them shake from pleasure. He slapped their already bruised ass as he picked up his pace. He pulled in their hair, squeezed their shoulders, put tender kisses near the wounds as he ruined this person beneath him._

With a loud moan, he came all over his bathtub. 

His cock was miserably soft in his hands after that. 

**Ah, great.** He thought, trying to catch his breath. **I did it again. Even though I promised myself to not do it again for at least two weeks...**

Sweat covered his forehead while the cold water mercilessly splashed on his body. He was used to the temperature by now. His hand hurt from going a bit too hard on stroking his junk. He sighed deeply, even though his heart was hammering agganist his chest. Euphoria lasted for a few minutes, and the feeling of misery came back as he stared at the mess he created. His legs open on the bathtub he sat on, his back leaning on the cold tile, his hair a mess, his face hot, and his left hand cracked a little and hurt whenever he moved it. 

The wound on his head thumped lazily, sending a dull pain on his skull. At least it didn't burn anymore, and the bleeding had stopped. Careful go not apply too much pressure on it, Lucifer rose up and took the shower hose with his right hand. He first washed his hand, then sprayed the semen on the tub away with it, sending it down the shower drain to god knows where. His penis was still sensitive, so he washed his lower regions extra carefully. He then began washing himself fully. Since he had an injury, putting shampoo on it would just burn him. So he ended up using the shampoo without any fragrance or harsh chemicals inside it, he got it as a gift from Mammon (of all people)

Apperantly, he ordered too much stuff for himself and decided to give it to Lucifer. At least it came to good use.

He carefully washed his hair and scalp, put the dried blood away from his face and hands, and got rid of the pieces of horns that were stuck on his scalp and hair. After his hair was completely washed, it was time for the rest of his body and wings. They looked like raw chicken wings, more than anything. Disgusting and sticky. He made sure to clean them thoroughly, though even staring at them made him want to vomit. All 4 of his wings looked the same way, raw, stomach-churning and filthy. 

What he had done for temporary pain and distraction, in the end, brought even more misery and regret to him. More reasons to hate himself in every way you can think of. His damned pride, his damned humility, his jumbled mess of a brain, his bleeding heart, they all made him feel like a rabbit that was cast aside from it's fluff, destined to die. Well, it wasn't like he was cast aside, he pushed people away himself. But that doesn't matter now, does it?

The point is; He is completely alone. Pathetic.

Once he got out of the shower and wore his clothes, he noticed a note slipped underneath his door. He knelt down and took it, staring at it quietly. It was a small note with a familiar hand writing.

**"Lucifer, meet me at my personal chambers today after classes. I have important matters to discuss with you. However, you needn't be nervous or angry, your brothers haven't done anything. It is a personal thing.  
\- Diavolo"**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peacocks pick and tear their feathers off when they are in great stress.

He stared at his head for a while in the mirror, as he got ready to go to work. The wounds were very visible if his hair ever so slightly. He had no idea how to cover them. Putting concealer in them would be a bad idea. Meybe he could style his hair differently for a while? He wondered what kind of explanation he was going to give to the others. I got attacked? No way. I fell from the stairs? No. I harmed myself? Absolutely not. It seems like a different hair style is the only way.

After ruffling his hair around a bit and using whatever be could find to style his hair in the drawer, he somehow concealed the wounds and sighed. This was going to be a long way. He had to keep his self control especially, his old, glorious wings weren't there anymore. One change of form, and his world would be over. Completely. He would be better off dead if that happened.

Well, he had to go through today in the same fashion as well. Paperwork, paperwork, talk to Diavolo, attend whatever meetings there was, talk to his brothers, and then talk to Diavolo. Then go back to home and sleep. He didn't want to work anymore. His fingers twitched whenever he saw a pile of documents. Oh, what wouldn't he give to just melt into the matress of his bed and sleep forever...? Spend the rest of eternity without pain. Or the anxiety of knowing that something horrible will happen after he smiled and felt good for a while. For great despair to come, there must be happiness first. And that is the worst kind of feeling. He smiled, but it hurt him to do so.

When had he become such a depressive person?

Oh well, it didn't matter anymore.

He didn't want anything to happen anymore.

Feeling more tired than ever, he dragged himself out of his room with his uniform. He had woken up extra early to not run into any of his brothers. And that plan worked, luckily. No one was in his way as he walked quietly into the halls of RAD. 

The school was empty. Quiet. Cold. So cold, that he thought he was in a different place at first. He stood over the council room for a while, his bag in his hand. He swallowed and fixed his clothes for a moment, before knocking on the door 3 times, and opening it after no response came. With hesitation, he looked inside. Why was he so nervous? He had no idea. As if he was afraid of an invisible entity there, he walked in carefully. It was unlike for him to feel small, as the avatar of pride. But for some reason, this empty room made him feel smaller, weaker than he ever felt in his life.

Putting his bag on one of the desks, he slowly slid onto the chair. For the first time in this room, he had no idea what to do. No documents in sight. No tests he must preapre for. His brothers weren't awake yet. No one was there. Absolutely no one to notice his pain, his humiliating self. His mind was twirling around in a suffocating sand storm. His line of vision was blurry. Darkened. All sound left the enviorment, as if there was any to begin with, and instead a painful ringing took over his ears. The silence, the coldness, the dust, the positioning of the moon, the florescent lights inside the room made him feel stressed. Anxious. Angry. He stared at his bag with his palms on his thighs, and slowly digged his nails into his legs through his gloves. 

He was pathetic.  
He wasn't supposed to be alive like this. Otherwise, he was just a burden to everyone. A bitter moment in their days. An annoying time frame in which they felt hatred for him. If he was such an annoyance, to everyone, if he failed as an older brother to his family, then what was his reason to live. Lucifer always thought that even if his brothers ended up hating him for the rest of their lives, everything would be fine if they were safe and sound. But contradictory to this mindset, and even though it wounded his damned pride to admit this, he wanted their love more than anything. He wanted to be loved. He wanted his brothers to be relaxed around him, not walk on eggshells to not piss him off by saying the wrong thing. Feel comfortable enough to talk with him if they ever got angry or sad at something, and needed to let it out.

But he ruined every single chance he had. No one invited him to group dinners, karaoke, movie nights, or activities like that anymore. No one wanted to spend time with him, because he pushed everyone away. He caused this grief to himself. He felt isolated, so alone. He ran away from everything. He lied to everyone for decades. He hurt them, despite of making himself think that he was protecting them. Even for Diavolo, as his right hand man, he was a failure. He made the mistake of agreeing on Diavolo's offer. But did he even have a choice in that moment? He hated thinking about it. He always ignored it.

In the end, he ended up falling in love with this man with his unstable head and emotions he desperately tired to hide. The flashbacks of the war. The angel ichor that was splattered everywhere. The horrified expressions of the angels he slaughtered to protect his sister. The angels he once called his brothers and sisters. He knew his father forced them to fight agganist him, being the fucking failure and coward of a creator he was. Asmodeus' face as he reached out to the sky while he fell, searching for the warmth he got from his home and father that wasn't there anymore. Leviathan's agonizing screams when his wings fell off completely, Belphegor's despair filled cries while he hugged and punched Beel's rock hard chest, calling out to his sister. Mammon's fearful eyes, as he tried to reach out to the oldest for support. He was confused. He had no idea what to do, and he turned to his older brother for help as always. Instinctively.

He crushed their dreams. Their hopes. Their happiness.

It was only then that he felt the pain in his head, and shivered at the cold feeling of the tiles on his wings. His head was spinning, and he was trying to breatheconstantly. He was choking, coughing. His tears formed sticky streams on his face as they dripped to the floor. He pulled his trembling legs to his stomach and got into a fetal position, holding his head and aggressively pulling his hair. He needed to distract himself. He needed pain. _He needed something._

He pulled on his hair and banged his forehead on the tile floor, causing the wounds to re-open and bleed all over the place. He screeched in distress, his featherless wings flapping and twitching constantly. He was ugly. Humiliatingly disgusting. What would his precious Diavolo say if he found him like this? What would others think? What if a student came in and saw him like that? Or worse, what if his brothers saw him? He tried to make himself think that this position, this situation was happening at the wrong time, at the wrong place. But as if his head was locked in that department, his brain didn't allow him to remember those things. Just terror. Just pain. The sticky, warm liquid that poured out of his head, his mouth, the transparent tears, the shivering, the coldness and hotness that was all over his body was all he could think.

What was he so afraid of?  
So anxious, so angry about?  
He had no idea.  
He felt himself losing consciousness. His grip on life. 

...

Rather than that...

It would be more accurate to say that something clicked on his brain at that instant. Hefelt himself getting further away from his body.  
Yes, that's it.  
His body was still there, in the same position, but he himself as a soul, a personality, was getting further away. As if he was watching himself from behind, but not being able to see or hear anything. Feel anything. 

\---

_Click_

_Creaaaaaaak_

"...munication is important in a relationship after all. After I said that, she got even more angry. Anyways, that was my last relationship in 500 years. Oh, Lucifer- LUCIFER!?"

"...Oh, lord Diavolo. Barbatos. Good morning." The Avatar of Pride was busy with his own documents on his table. There was a bandage wrapped around it. The windows were wide open to get rid of the smell of blood in the room, though a demon with a sharp sense of smell like Diavolo would easily be able to sense it. His featherless wings were withdrawn, he couldn't afford to show them just yet.

After his, ahem, _emotionally difficult time_ on the floor, he hastily got up. The first thing he felt was exhaustion. His eyes were puffy, his cheeks were sticky and the blood on his head had dried a bit. But other than that, he felt a bit relaxed... Well no, he felt empty. But he confused that feeling with relaxation. He got up, cleaned up everywhere, and with the help of magic, he managed to heal his wounds and put a bandage around his head.  
It was a good thing he came way too early to RAD. 

He had just begun his paperwork when Diavolo and Barbatos, who were nose deep in a discussion, came in. The first thing Diavolo's face showed was shock, then concentration, and then worry. Barbatos remained poker faced. Lucifer found his face squished between Diavolo's palms again, while the prince turned his head to right and left to check the bandage. This was starting to get old, but Lucifer just sighed. He didn't say anything. He was still presentable, minus the blood on his grey jacket, he took it off his shoulders to hide the stain. He folded it, and then put it in his bag neatly. But Diavolo and Barbatos didn't need to know that. "...Barbatos, have a healer ready for Lucifer please." Diavolo spoke calmly after he inspected the bandage around Lucifer's head. Barbatos simply nodded and left the room.

"Lucifer, my friend..." Diavolo sighed, letting go of his face, and sat beside him on the desk. Lucifer looked away, and put one hand on his head. Of course the bandage would look awkward on him. Why did he even put it on? Now everyone was going to ask him what happened. How did he even _think_ he could be present in RAD like this-

"Will you take the bandage off?"

"Hm?"

"The bandage. I want to see what happened. I won't look if you don't want to, but... You are more than my best friend by now, Lucifer."

Lucifer turned his eyes on the floor to look down again, when Diavolo stared right into his eyes when he said that. His heart wasn't ready or the honesty inside them, and frankly, he didn't want to burst into tears or feel his hands tremble again. Or feel his pulse in his head. His ruby eyes, full of pride, looked weak. Tired. He was nothing like himself anymore. But then again, he was never himself ever since the night he fell. 

This past decade had just been worse. Even though most beings think that 10 years for a demon that has lived thousands of years means hardly anything, it isn't very true for him. Especially when days are painfully slow, and especially when all he could think of is the sweet relieve of nothingness that was waiting for him after the eventual doom of the universe. Lucifer processed Diavolo's words for a while. "You are more than my best friend." He said. What did he mean by that? Why did he care so much about him? 

He was a hideous being that craved praise, but was too prideful to admit it. He was stuck between being honest with himself and admit that he was nothing special, and lying to himself that he was perfect. That he was god's most beautiful, yet the most damned creature in all realms. That he was worth of all the love, praise and admiration of the entire universe. His ego was big. But the bigger something gets, more fragile it becomes. He slowly takes off the tag that was holding the bandage together and takes it off of his head, showing two oval shaped, still gruesome wounds on his head. 

Diavolo's eyes widen at the sight slowly, when it clicks in his head.

The wounds were facing downwards. Not upwards, like you would normally do during a torture session with a demon. Pulling their horns upwards while pushing their heads down with your feet. Making them feel miserable, until they spill all the information you need. No, Lucifer had pulled his horns down and broke them off completely. And very cleanly as well. "...Oh, Lucifer..." Diavolo parted Lucifer's hair with his fingers gently, and inspected the injury. 

"...Why?" He asked gently, though it came out a bit angry. Lucifer's unseen wings twitched at the tone. Diavolo didn't like seeing his show-off toy defective like this. Right. Lucifer tried to make up an excuse at a moment. He blurted out something very stupid in a rush. "I fell down the stairs because I tripped on the grimm that was left on the ground, and broke my horns greatly. The healer told me to get rid of them and wait for new ones to grow out." 

"By who? And when? How much was the grimm? Where exactly did that happen? RAD? House of Lamentation? Which healer? At which clinic? At what time?" Diavolo questioned all at once, his voice getting more and more tense with seconds. He didn't like being lied to. He wanted honesty. Especially from his right-hand man. Lucifer's wings flinched again. Like feeling a cough rising up in your throat and trying to keep it inside, demon wings and horns didn't like to be kept inside when they felt the need to come out. It gave great discomfort to the owner to keep them inside. But Lucifer kept silent and tried to ignore the screams of his pride, and his common sense mixed together. 

_What the hell am I doing? I can NOT show weakness like this, I am not a pathetic human!_

_Diavolo is my boss. He has authority, and he trusts me with many things. He is the king-to-be of all demons, I cannot disappoint him as his next in command. I cannot love him. I cannot even THINK OF loving him. Like that. If I am gone like this, if he thinks that I am no longer loyal to him, he will be... He..._

_My family will have no place to stay, they will suffer. Everything up until now will be good for nothing. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. **Everything. Everything. Everything. Everything-**_

He knows that he was exaggerating things.  
Diavolo won't accuse him of treason or anything just because he had a fucking bandage on his head.  
No, no, no, no. This wasn't The Sensible Lucifer speaking. It was the completely wrecked part of his brain that was taking over at an alarming pace. 

Closing his eyes and furrowing his brow in pain and stress, he gulped. He didn't want to admit that he harmed himself. He tore off his wings, broke his horns, and did many other things that this story hadn't talk about. Like lighing ciggarettes only press it agganist his palms and backside of his hands to extinguish it. Dunking his feet and legs in water that is hotter than the demon body can stand. While he showered. Things that wouldn't be noticed unless someone explicitly looked for it. Lucifer felt like a child at that moment. Being scolded for stealimg something from the grocery store.

Lucifer continued to stay silent as a response. What could he say? 

"I was going to talk to you about this later but... I think now is the time." Diavolo stroked his hair after calming down a little, taking a deep breath. "We... We need to talk about you."


	5. Chapter 5

"...I am perfectly fine." Lucifer stated, sitting inside Diavolo's warm chambers on a comfortable leather sofa. He had a warm cup of tea inside his favorite mug, it was nothing fancy. Just some black tea with an ironically crimson red colour, shining inside the cup cutely. Though Lucifer's expression seemed very... depressing inside the cup. Even muttering out those words caused him to get angry at himself, the sentence built up in his throat and made him feel uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, while Diavolo looked away to make him feel a bit more comfortable. But it made Lucifer even more uneasy. 

What was this man thinking?  
It ate his insides away.

"...You're not." He simply said, and faced him directly. "Is there something happening back at home?"

"Other than my brother-"

"No, Lucifer." Diavolo cut him off. Hearing his name from his mouth at this tone made Lucifer jump a bit, though he didn't let the younger man notice that. "I am not asking about your brothers. You are not okay. What... What good am I if I am unable to help you out?" Lucifer quickly looked away at these words, putting one leg over another and sinking on the couch a little. With just a couple glanced and words, Diavolo was able to make him feel this anxious. Is anxious the right word for this feeling? No, no... He wasn't like one of those weak humans. The humans that crumbled underneath the 1 billionth of pressure he was under each day. But he was still fine. He turned out fine. There was just no way.

He grabbed his mug and carefully sipped from it, wanting to shrink to himself and fly back to the spec of light he was created out of. Oh, how nice would the world be if he was never created. How nice would it be if humanity never existed...

His thoughts must've been drifting away again, since he realized that Diavolo was snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. He stared back at the demon ahead of him, he was leaning agganist his hand on the table and staring at him. Lucifer's shoulders slumped even more when he took a deep breath, suddenly feelimg colder than before in his outfit. "...There are some things I cannot tell you about, Lord Diavolo."

"Lucifer, I known you for millennias. It hurts me to see you like this. Your work at RAD means nothing to me when you're like this." Diavolo slowly took a hold of Lucifer's cold hand on the table, squeezing it gently. He could feel the man's arm flinching and pulling back for a second, but Lucifer didn't pull his hand away. Diavolo looked down apologetically, and perhaps a little envious. Perhaps it wasn't envy, and just pity. Or maybe, it was regret, followed by frustration. "...You obviously have a lot to say, things you've packed away throughout the times we spent together, and even before that. But even if you don't tell me those, I genuinely want you to be happy with yourself."

"I am perfectly happy with myself. I am the Avatar of Pride." Lucifer's hand that had Diavolo's on top clenched weakly into a fist. The warmth of his hand was soothing, almost like a sedative that made him all sleepy, and drained all his strength away. "What kind of figure would I be if I loathed myself?"

"Even prideful creatures feel unsatisfaction in themselves from time to time. And it frustrates them. I know that."

"Diavolo, I am the strongest demon in all realms, second to you. You don't need to worry over my self esteem, as if I'm a child." 

"Is that why you harm yourself, instead of talking to someone? Maybe seeking help?

This question was the final drop that caused the glass to overfill. Lucifer stared right into his eyes all of a sudden, full of rage. "What gave you that impression?" He began, his entire body getting stiff and his head buzzing loudly. " **What makes you even THINK that I need help?** I am not crazy, therefore I don't need to see anyone. I am not some human lunatic that would cut themselves, instead of seeking help like a normal person. I am not like those humans. I am _not_ weak."

The buzzing continued, the sound of their voices also increased.

"Even if you say that, you will destroy yourself even more. Have you looked into the mirror? You look absolutely shit faced Lucifer, you look miserable."

"Excuse me? My appearance is nothing less than perfect, or I would shake your image! I am your right hand man!"

"Don't try to pull the conversation to somewhere else."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are! Now sit down and listen to me. I don't want you to think I'm angry at you for feeling like shit, but you are walking on thin fucking ice with this stubbornness."

"Oh, threatening me now? Thank you very much. My problems are mine and mine alone, nothing for you to meddle with!"

"Everyone is worried about you, and you still choose to be stubborn and make yourself suffer. I cannot comprehend that!"

"Because I don't WANT you to understand!" _Did the gears inside your stop working before this conversation? Did you remove your brain along with your common sense? Huh? Did you? Answer me, did you? Did you?_

The pulsing, buzzing inside his head intensified, his eyez going wide open, and it felt like they were about to pop out of ther sockets. Lucifer grit his teeth and let out a scream through them when he felt his wings flare out, along with his horns that were no longer there. The horns that fit on his head like a crown, heavy, smooth, shiny, and healthy. Making him appear bigger, more intimidating. His featherless wings, feeling uncomfortably cold, flapped around and he our his hands on his head to hide his absent horns. Before Diavolo could even react, he ran to the closest place where he could be invisible. 

The bathroom.

"Lucifer... L-Lucifer! Wait!" His shocked tone came after him but he paid no mind to it. Slamming the door after himself, he locked it and holed up at the corner the farthest to the door. Pulling his knees to his chest, he curled his wings inwards and didn't let go of his head. His teeth were clenched, his crimson eyes wide open and glassy with angry tears. The thumping inside his head was worse now, he struggled to breathe. He forgot where he was, he didn't hear the door being kicked open, or saw it. He was closing his face with his hands, like a child. All movement was slow and all noise was deeper. 

Lucifer could only feel the coldness of the tiles on his back and ass, caused by sitting down. As if being drowned, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't understand what was going on around him. As if everything was blurry, his brain was a jumbled mess. Be only cried, shook his head and tried to get away from whatever that was getting close to him. He tried to cast a spell, knock out the intruder but it was blocked very easily. He tried to burn it into ashes, but ended up getting his face soaked instead. The intruder held his shoulders firmly and shook him.

"Look at me." It mouthed. Lucifer's vision darkened and brightened, as if experiencing a drug trip. Lucifer looked at it. Gold, red, brown... So beautiful, so soft. So strong. So smart. So loving. His vision was consumed by darkness afterwards, he didn't know if he was awake or not. He smelled a certain perfume, honey... and lemon. The thing held him tight, so tightly that he was sure that it wasn't going go let him to anytime soon. 

The thing poked around his back and quickly find the spot that relaxed him. With a few skillfull fingers, his wings were gone along with the weird sensation on his head. He felt all of his energy being drained from his body afterwards. The wet feeling on his face wasn't too comfortable, but it helped him to calm his shit down a little. He closed his eyes, and succumbed to the darkness.

Opening his eyes at the sound of a faint murmuring, Lucifer came to his senses in a soft, familiar bed. He looked outside from the window while his head still rested on the pillow.. The familiar colour of the sky stated that it was around 7. The hour in which most demons leave their jobs and go back home to rest. This hour of the day was his favorite, simply because the previous chatter of the crowd would slowly die down and tiredness would slowly consume them. The Devildom the exchange programs see is only a very tiny part of it.

Like everywhere, this place had streets you shouldn't hang around during late hours. Different cities. Towns famous of it's foods, festivals, traditions... This place also had a very weird ranking system. Even though attending RAD was a big luxury for most demons, there were still demons outside the school that worked in office jobs. And demons that travelled around aimlessly. The unspoken balance between them was never distrupted. Workers would work to prevent the economy from crashing responsibly, meanwhile the good for nothing class would do whatever they wanted with no guarantee of finding food tomorrow.

Their civilization was very similar to humans. Yet they insulted humans. How tragic.

While he watched the red and purple clouds in the sky, moving around slowly, he sighed. How long had it been since he felt the warm sun agganist his skin truly? Or sat at a bench underneath a tree, waiting for a breeze to rush past him? The carefree days in his childhood were... fun. But the thought of going back to Celestial Realm made his skin crawl. Missing your childhood innocence and the place you grew up in are two different things.

He laid down in the bed for a while and tried to think what happened. And when it happened. How it happened. But it was all a jumbled mess inside his head. As if watching himself from a frozen glass window. He felt as if he was too young, too stupid to deal with anything beyond that point, and too old to give a shit. Rolling over to his side, he grumbled. His absence was going to be such a pain to explain to everyone. Also he vividly remembered his outburst to Diavolo.

"Fuck me silly..."

"As much as my lord like to do that one day, I don't think it's the time for that." The voice of a familiar butler made him freeze in his bed, with the same expression, same pose, same everything. He slowly rolled over to his back, and saw Barbatos sitting on a chair in a perfect posture. Back in a 90° angle, his legs crossed neatly, his hands on his laps with his fingers entertwined. It looked like he had no back problems, but uncomfortable at the same time. Meanwhile Lucifer's back cracked whenever he rolled over on the bed or bent over to pick something up.

"...What the fuck are you doing in my room?" He simply questioned with a blank face, causing Barbatos to smile a little.

"I am here to take care of you, as Lord Diavolo requested."

"How about starting with getting out and then not coming back, ever?

"I have better things to do than seeing your 8th grade sex education teacher looking face, but Lord Diavolo's wish is my command." 

"Why you!-" Lucifer attempted to get up and say something, but was met with a big pain in his throat, along with his numb arms. Hissing at the weird sensations, he flopped down the bed.

"...Oh, I forgot to mention. Lord Diavolo put a sedative spell on you since you refused to calm down. You might feel numbness on your limbs." Barbatos said and got up quietly, only getting a glare from Lucifer. The bastard definetly kept that secret from him on purpose. He paid no mind to the glare and pointed towards the bathroom. "I prepared a good bath for you. Do you need help getting up, or washing yourself?"

"I'll get there in a couple minutes...." He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the butler's eyes on him. He started to fall asleep again though. As if sleeping for an entire day wasn't enough. He heard a door being opened slowly, and pryed his eyes open slightly. "...Barbatos, why didn't you tell me he was awake?" The read headed demon spoke and came towards them, sitting beside the bed. Hesitantly, he put a hand on Lucifer's warm cheek, stroking it. Lucifer looked at him for a moment before looking away. Was he just imagining thihgs or was this room a bit hotter now?

"I was about to, but I got caught up in a conversation. I am sorry about that."

"No need to be. You looked after him ever since he fell asleep."

Lucifer watched the two as they spoke and noticed the hand on his cheek was never absent. The warmth and coarse texture of his fingertips agganist his smooth cheeks. The evening wind came through the open window, and shook his raven hair a bit, causing goosebumps to appear in his entire body. He looked away after that. "How long have I been asleep?" He questioned reasonably.

"Around a day or so. How are you feeling?" Diavolo pulled his hand away and looked at him closely. Fresh bandages around his head, the lotion applied to his wings to make the process of growing new feathers faster, a body that was washed while he was still sleeping... He looked fresher and calmer, though his eyes lacked any life. "...Tired. Ironically." He attempted to move his arms again, feeling a bit better this time. He slowly regained the feeling of them and put them over his face, while Diavolo caressed his naked shoulders and rubbed them. He sighed deeply for the last time and rose up, also noticing that his wings were completely in the open. Quickly folding them into his back, he wrapped the blankets around himself and glared up to the two of them. 

"...Stop staring at me and get out. I've been humiliated enough." 

\---

"Well, that wasn't fun, was it?"

"No, unfortunately..."

"..."

"..."

"Well, it seems that we are out of time... How unfortunate. I would've loved to hear what happened after that. I expect you to come back next week. Alright?"

"...I will. Thank you very much."


End file.
